Of Clowns and Children
by Altsoba
Summary: [Oneshot]It still had a smile, but the red around its lips was too red, and the smile was one of satisfaction, like a predator that’s just caught its prey.


I don't like this one that much, but I figured I would post it anyway to see what others think. I had a point for it, but that was sometime around two o the clock this morning, and between thenand the time when I finished typing it somebody shot and killed that point. So far there have been no leads as to who the murderer was.

This is a oneshot that kinda goes with my other one Evil Smells Like Cookies, but by no means are they part of the same story nor could they be considered sequels to each other. They just have a similar theme/object.

I don't own them, but if I did we wouldn't have to wait til September for season two!

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The first time Dean saw her, she was standing outside the candy store in a small town in the middle of nowhere. There were people passing by on the sidewalk, none of them taking any notice of a lone small child trying her best to blend in with the wall behind her. If he hadn't been driving by he might've stopped and asked her where her mother was.

The next time he saw the little girl she was standing a few cars down from his parking spot in the motel. Her large brown eyes roughly the size of dinner plates, two straggly pigtails trailing down her shoulders, the black braids coming slightly unraveled. Dean remembered thinking then that she reminded him of Sam when he had been that age, and for a moment falling prey to wondering how his younger brother was doing all the way out in California. She just had that totally innocent look. He assumed that she must have a parent somewhere, the hotel had been a long ways out of town and he didn't think the small child could've walked all that way by herself. Not without someone intervening.

She came randomly, never speaking to Dean, only pleading for something with her large doe eyes. Each time he saw her she was in the same filthy skirt and sweater that she had been wearing previously. Every time she seemed slightly more ragged and infinitely more desperate for something.

Once she had been waiting for Dean just outside the town's library. Once again, no one else seemed to pay the ragged child any mind, yet Dean almost fell down the stairs in his attempts to not trip over the child. The book he had been thumbing through flying from his hands and landing cover up on the step below them. A few of the townsfolk turned at this, but after checking to see that there was no immediate injury, preferably a bloody one, for them to gawk at, they carried on their way.

Dean noticed how frayed she looked; the child's skin was pale with large, dark circles underneath her eyes, making the brown irises all the darker. Her sweater was coming unraveled at the bottom, green thread hanging haphazardly down to her scabbed knees, and it was far to large for her, the neck leaving both shoulders exposed through a forest of frayed edges. One sneaker was untied, the shoelaces having gone long beyond any way to actually knot them together in a bow, the other shoe was not much better, with holes torn through the canvas exposing her lack of socks to the world. He could also see just how skinny the child was, her collarbones sticking out in stark relief against several dark, finger-sized bruises.

She bent and picked the book up, not bothering to look at the subject matter, and handed it back up to him. "What is your name?" Dean was amazed at the lack of reaction the townsfolk had to this child's state. Angrily he thought about what type of parents this girl must have to let her get in such a state of disarray, his older brother instincts kicking in, wanting him to protect this girl.

She smiled at him, showing him the large gap in her front teeth, seeming to suck up the attention like it was water and she had been walking long in the desert. "Suzy." She turned her head on its side looking up at him. "What's yer name?" She was bold, not shy at all it seemed, as her previous silence had made her seem.

"My name is Dean." Awkwardly he took the small hand the child offered him and shook it. "Where are your parents?"

The only response he got from the girl was a lift of the shoulder. She smiled up at him again before turning and skipping down the stairs, all trace of the desperateness she had previously shown him gone. Dean watched her go; she came to a small group of people on the sidewalk that unconsciously parted for her, not one of them seeming to take notice of the child. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, but he didn't think it would be proper of him to chase the child down the street. He hoped that someone would help her. Maybe he could if he saw her again.

For the next few days, Dean buried himself in the search for the demon. Unconsciously, though, Dean had started looking for the little girl when he went out, hoping to see her again. His instincts as a protector making him want to help her before he left.

The people in this town were odd, to say the least. They were not only willing to ignore an abused little girl, but they were also very adept at ignoring a demon prowling amongst them. Taking and killing one person every few weeks, the disappearances barely causing a blip in the daily routines of the townsfolk, if it hadn't been for relatives outside of the town reporting their family members missing, Dean would not have found out anything. The townspeople were closed mouthed, to say the least. Even with his best FBI ID's he could get no more out of them then what he had found in the newspapers, and that was only when his interviews went well, normally he just got a disinterested look and the statement that the missing person was a loner, that whomever he was interviewing hadn't known the person that well. Dean had never been in such a small town with so many strangers in it before.

He wouldn't have minded putting this town to his rearview mirror if it weren't for that little girl. On some level, he knew that he wanted to kick some demon ass, but he felt an equally powerful pull to help the little girl. Ever since he had arrived at the town, he had felt nothing about trying to save the people inside.

He didn't see her again until he had tried to vanquish the demon haunting the town, though. She was waiting for him deep inside the cave that the demon called home.

Unable to get much from the townsfolk other than the location that the missing people had disappeared in, Dean had had a hard time finding anything out about what was going on. The books he had checked out of the library were of no help, any passage that had looked promising was pulled out or had something spilled across the words, making them illegible.

Because of this, Dean had brought just about his entire arsenal up to the cave with him. Taking the Impala as far up the trail as she would go and then dragging his weapons the rest of the way up.

There were runes scrawled haphazardly around the walls and floor, the highest one barely coming to Dean's chest, some partially covered by the litter of candy wrappers and broken toys leading up to the little girl. She was sitting on the floor holding the head of a clown doll in her hand. The bells on the clown's hat jingled lightly, the sound silvery in the echo of the cave, whenever she moved it.

She smiled at Dean when he came in, once again revealing the gap in her front teeth. "You came!" There was a fire blazing brightly in front of the child, painting her face in an orange and black skull mask.

Dean sat down across from her, placing the weapons he had brought with him on the cave floor. There was no sign of the demon, but Dean was curious as to what the child was doing here. Without prompting, though, she began to speak.

"All I wanted to do was see what was inside the box, that was all. It was mine anyway! If they didn't want me to open it why would they give it to me?" Tears had begun to fall from her eyes and she jumped up, running towards Dean, giving the fire a wide birth.

Any thoughts Dean had of vanquishing the demon disappeared when it hit his side, her warm tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. "I didn't mean to let the bad things out, but it just happened. I thought I could just play the song a little; it was so pretty, I couldn't stop." The demon was sobbing now, her face buried in Dean's side. Dean had his arms wrapped around the girl's small frame, rubbing circles on her back, trying to calm her down, much like he used to do for Sam when he was small. "They wouldn't listen, it was just an accident, something came out that wasn't a clown, an' then everybody got mad. Mommy an' Daddy went away, they took Jack with them; nobody would talk to me anymore, they were all angry and scared of the thing that came out of the box. They all pretended that I wasn't there after a while, they even pretended that the bad thing was gone."

Dean decided to take the child with him, if the town could ignore her while she was there, then they wouldn't notice if she was gone for real. He began to stand, the little girl still clinging to him. "If I take you out of here, what will happen to the town?"

She sniffed and looked up at him, "I don't know, they took the box, so I can't put it back, but I have this." She held out the clown head, the bells jingling forlornly. "I think he was in the box to keep whatever was inside in there. Maybe if we leave it here the bad thing will go away. When I found it I didn't notice the bad thing hanging around anymore."

Dean took the head; he thought the girl was probably right. Instead of being the normal, happy clown's face seen on most children's toys, this one was somewhat frightening. It still had a smile, but the red around its lips was too red, and the smile was one of satisfaction, like a predator that's just caught its prey. The golden eyes glittered in the fire light, making them appear to watch Dean. Even if the girl was wrong about the clown being there to protect those on the outside from what was contained in the box, her idea was a better one than Dean had. He wasn't even sure what exactly it was he was dealing with.

He tossed the head, watching it arc through the air and land in a pile of candy bar wrappers next to a crude, child's drawing of a Minotaur. Dean took the girls hand, lifting his bag of weapons with the other. The child picked up the rest of Dean's weapons, trying to help him carry them out.

They made it back to the motel Dean had been staying at with no problems. Dean had no idea what he would do with the child; he certainly couldn't keep her with him. Dean was to tired to worry with it now, though, falling to sleep before his head hit the pillow. He hadn't realized just how tired he had made himself dragging his arsenal up that trail.

When he awoke the next morning Dean was alone in the motel room, he couldn't find the girl anywhere. He even checked outside, asking the clerk at the front desk if he had seen the little girl, but no one had. Finally, Dean returned to his room, sitting down on the bed the little girl should have been in when he woke up that morning.

Something rolled up against the side of Dean's leg, it was under the blankets, but by the way it jingled Dean thought he knew what it was. His assumption was right when he lifted the cover and the clown's head revealed itself to him. Tied to the clown's red and gold cap with a rotten shoelace was a note. Dean lifted it and scrawled across the lined paper in careful letters was this:

"_Thank you for trying to help me. I had been waiting so long for someone to save the good in this town and you finally did. Keep Jack's head, he'll protect you."_

It wasn't signed but Dean knew who it was from. He packed the clown head in the bottom of his bag and made his way out of a town that was much more amiable. The people looking up and watching as the Impala drove past. One small figure even waved as he passed the town sign.

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A few months later, Sam and Dean were traveling together again. Poking fun at Dean for a failed pick up line Sam asked Dean to name three kids he even knew. There was one, but Dean couldn't very well tell his younger brother that he had met innocence and goodness embodied and she was a child. That would require more explanation then Dean wanted to give.


End file.
